Southern French cuisine celebrates the best of sea and land - the gently sauteed scallops of Coquille St. Jacques as well as earthy lamb slowly roasted or braised with herbs and garlic.

More rustic than rich, the region's food avoids the fussy sauces and techniques of its Parisian counterpoint.

You don't need a passport to experience southern France. It's as close as Bleu Provence at Crayton Cove in Naples.

People were lined up out the door when we arrived on a midweek evening, which at first seemed like a good sign.

It was not. Although our food was delicious, the service suffered. More on that later.

We settled in at a white-linen covered banquette table in the main dining room (there's also an alfresco alcove). The room's soft blue walls, white tables and yellow and blue floral tapestry evoke the colors of the Mediterranean sea and golden wheat fields of rural France.

The wine list offers varied and interesting options by the glass. The value is good, too, whether you go with a $7.50 Coastal Vines Cabernet Sauvignon or a $12.50 Domaine Bruno Colin Bourgogne Rouge.

We sipped while tearing into crusty French bread served with tapenade and pitted olives marinated in oil and fennel.

When it came to choosing appetizers, we were disappointed not to see the homemade duck pate on the menu. It was listed on the restaurant's website. We should have asked. Our server didn't mention it, but we later overheard another waiter say it was available as a special.

C'est la vie. It's not like we didn't enjoy the appetizers we did order.

The plump escargot were laced with garlic and parsley - so simple yet so delicious. They were too hot to eat at first, so we concentrated on the pan-grilled mussels.

Mon dieu, the bowl contained almost three dozen mussels, each and every one tender as could be. Fire imparts a smoky, charry note and creates a slight crust around the edges that contrasts the delicateness of the shellfish.

Thank goodness for that abundant bowl. Our entrees did not arrive until about 45 minutes later.

(Page 2 of 2)

The server apologized repeatedly, but it became apparent that the kitchen was overextended and understocked. Diners were being offered pricier alternatives to dishes they had ordered half an hour earlier (at no extra cost). Communication between front and back of the house clearly had broken down, leaving patrons hungry. At least we got what we ordered, eventually.

The classic duck leg confit was cooked to a sublime state; the meat slipped easily off the bone and the flavor was richly developed. Usually, though, the skin of the cooked duck is crisped before it's served. No crispy skin here.

The duck was paired with "mango fries" - slightly caramelized mango slices. The sweet fruit complemented the fowl well, and the creamy potato gratin was perfect.

I lean toward lamb in French restaurants, but the menu's description of the chops sounded ordinary -especially at $42. I opted instead for a bone-in veal chop and was not disappointed. Seasoned with fresh thyme, the meat was perfectly seared to achieve a crust without losing a juicy, pink interior. It cut like butter. The almond-and-orange crust added crunch and zest. Who needs demi-glace?